Out Of The Blue, and Into The Black
by letmefallasleep
Summary: "She was good; too good. She'd started to enjoy it. Their first two years together, she'd been hesitant to take a life. But that had all changed. Everything had changed the day that Jack had found her own sweet spot." After two years of traveling together, Riddick leaves Jack on Helion, and vanishes. Why? Why after twoyears, had he abandoned her? One Shot for now


A/N: So this is a one shot, focusing on Jack and Riddick, and what lead him to leave her on Helion. Mind you, I've never seen the animated movies, so sorry if this doesn't follow along with something.

Warnings: Language, violence, sexual themes

* * *

"You're stayin' kid. I ain't arugin'," Riddick said, his voice ice cold as he stared down at fifteen year old Jack.

"You can't fucking make me!" She threw back, tears streaming down her eyes, as she threw a bowl across the room, where it shattered against the wall. "I won't!"

"Fine, don't stay. Run back to the streets. Whore yourself out for every fuckin' meal. Don't matter to me none," Riddick said carelessly. "But goin' with me? Not a fuckin' option. You stay here with the Holy Man, go to a good school, get an education, or throw it all away, and turn into just another junkie street whore. Your fuckin' choice."

"I'm goin' with you!" She yelled, stomping her foot down angrily. "You can't just leave me here!"

"Watch me, kid."

* * *

Riddick woke up in a cold sweat, shivs in both hands, heart pounding loud enough to wake the dead.

He didn't have to glance at the clock to know the time. He knew it was two thirty seven in the morning, give or take a few minutes. Another one of his seemingly superhuman abilities, an uncanny ability to tell time anywhere, any time.

But he would have known anyways. 2:37 AM, April 19th, four years ago. The night he walked out of Jack's life.

It was for her own good; he knew that. Hadn't made it any easier.

He snorted. Same damn reason he was so attached to the snot-faced brat was the same reason he'd left.

He'd seen a lot of himself in the kid. Strong survival instinct. Good reflexes, smart for her age. An uncanny ability with knives.

And an innate killing instinct.

She was good, Riddick had to give her props for that. She was scary good. Kid had fuckin' skills.

And that was why he'd walked away.

She was good; too good. She'd started to enjoy it. Their first two years together, she'd been hesitant to take a life. Always looked for the other option. Nearly got 'em both killed a few times.

But that had all changed.

Everything had changed the day Jack had found her own sweet spot.

* * *

She was supposed to be gone for three days. Riddick had carefully planned it so she'd be gone. He'd told her to go to the capital city of the shitty ass, backwards planet they'd been staying at, and get more supplies. Twelve hour trip one way, figuring in the time she'd spend exploring the towns on the way there. Should have taken her seven or eight hours to get the supplies. Add in sleep time, he figured he had at least three days. Minimum.

Same as always. Some excuse to get her gone for a while, and he'd finish the job they were really on-planet for. Finish the kill. She'd help with the hunt, get in a few harmless fights with the locals, and build a network of supplies and information. Then Riddick would ship her off somewhere for a few days, and do the deed.

But he hadn't counted on her ingenuity. Her mischievous streak. Instead of walking, she'd jacked a speeder, and gotten to the city in a little under six hours. Taken her three to get all the supplies for their next planetary jump.

Riddick knew it was too late when he heard the sand speeder stop outside of the small house in the middle of nowhere. He didn't know how Jack had managed to get back so fast, but he knew there was no point in trying to hide what he'd been doing.

The fifteen year old had walked in, a big, dumb ass grin on her face, as she proudly held up the two large sacks of supplies. She opened her mouth to speak…

And snapped it shut again when she seen the man tied to the kitchen table, foot missing at the ankle, hand missing at the wrist.

"Riddick?" Her voice was hoarse, with what Riddick _thought_ was fear.

He stared for a few seconds, gauging his words carefully. "He was a baby-fucker, Jackie. Baby-_killer_, really. Fucks 'em for a few months, then kills 'em and moves on."

"The job?" She managed to choke out.

"Woman who lost her son to him. Although I figured I'd probably give her most the money back. Not all that fond of baby-fuckers," He said conversationally, cutting off another finger of the bound man, who screamed into the gag.

That was when he noticed. It wasn't fear peaking it's head out in Jack's eyes. It was a blood lust.

He shook his head. Had to be wrong. Jack didn't like killing. Nearly got 'em killed 'cause she always wanted to look for another option.

_Maybe you didn't have the right target_, a little voice whispered in the back of his head. _'Cause she looks pretty fuckin' interested now._

"Jack." He said it slowly, carefully. To get her attention more than anything else.

But she ignored him, her eyes glued to the screaming man on the table. Slowly, in that sensual way she still didn't realize she had, she walked over to the man, standing next to the bleeding hand that remained.

"You know he did it?" She asked, voice thick.

Riddick could only nod, as he felt another presence in the room. Something that made his hackles rise, hair stand up on end. Something he'd only felt in a few men before. Men like him.

_The killing edge_. Jack had found it. And by the look in her eyes, she was enjoying every second of it. A new, dark gleam came over her eyes. Riddick could almost see the dark, beautiful demon rise from nowhere, and settle into his little Jackie.

Almost before he could react, Jack had picked up a knife, and chopped off the man's remaining hand.

He had taken a step forward –to do what, he wasn't sure –when she growled at him.

"Mine," She hissed, picking up the knife again, and waving it in the general direction of the door. "Get out."

"Jack –"

"Out."

So he left. Walked out of the house, and sat in the front yard.

* * *

She'd come out a few hours later, covered in blood, that blissful look on her face.

"You done?" He'd asked gruffly.

She'd nodded, face beautiful in its evilness. In its darkness. In its sensual, beautiful _brutality_.

That was when he felt it. His own dark soul pushing to the front. Wanting her. Every inch of her.

She'd felt it too. She plastered herself on him, trying to pull his head down to kiss him.

Riddick fought it with everything he had, which wasn't much. Almost every inch of him wanted to keep going, to fuck Jack's brains out.

He managed to pull himself away, smelling the blood that had transferred from her to him, that metallic scent that he loved, that filled his nostrils, that clouded his brain, that instantly made him hard, and he almost grabbed her again. But he resisted.

"No. No, Jack," He growled as she started at him again.

"I know you want it, Riddick," She'd said in a voice that wasn't hers. It was the voice of a woman who knew just what she had, what she wanted, and what she'd get. A voice he'd never heard from her.

A voice that called out to his own demons in a way he'd never felt before. A kindred evil, echoing across the planes of hell, looking for a companion. He could feel it pounding inside of him, like an animal in a cage, determined to answer that call.

Control. It was all about control. And Richard B. Riddick was always in control.

"Back the fuck up, Jack. This ain't what either of us want," He snapped, shoving her hard, harder than he meant too, sending her flying on her ass.

"Bull shit," Jack said, licking the blood off her lips as she pulled her feet underneath her, and moved towards him again. "I know what I want, Riddick. And it looks like you know too." Her eyes lustily drifted down to his crotch, where his erection was straining against his pants.

"I ain't a baby-fucker, Jack!" Riddick roared, throwing her off him again; she hit her ass, and skidded that time. "I'm old enough to be your fuckin' father!"

She grinned up at him. "Didn't stop him either," She cooed seductively, rising to her feet once more, as she began pulling at her shirt.

* * *

He'd stormed off, angry as hell, before she'd finished her strip-tease. Hadn't come back until the next morning, to find Jack had already gotten rid of the body, cleaned up, and went to bed.

The demon was gone. A subdued, quiet Jack had tried apologizing. Tried telling him she didn't know what had happened, but she was sorry. Whatever had happened, she hadn't meant it.

But it was too late.

Riddick knew the kid probably _didn't_ remember much; bits and pieces, if that. Knew when she'd woke up, she'd had an empty feeling, deep in her soul, and deep between her legs.

That's how it'd been for him the first few times. How it always was, before the demon, and what was left of your humanity merged. Before both halves worked as a whole.

Before you slid down that dark path…

… And ended up like him.

He hadn't spoken to her at all. Loaded their gear onto the ship, and locked himself in the cockpit for the ride to Helion Prime.

It was too tempting.

She was too tempting.

Three days later, he dropped her at the Holy Man's door, with a wad of cash.

And then… Just as quickly as he'd dropped into her life…

He dropped back out.


End file.
